I look out the huge glass window, bullet proof, I add and wonder. It sounds funny. I mean an eighteen year old girl wondering. Does it feel funny because I'm eighteen or because I go to this smart ass school and I should know everything? Looking out the window I see the bright green grass and the sidewalk the lets you into the school. I see the big black gates that they put up but it seems like they don't work because the guard never closes them.

Oh and did I mention we have a guard. He checks our IDs every morning. And when you don't have them you get Sunday detention. I never knew that there was a thing called Sunday detention. I never got it but I remember in my first few years at the school I would always forget, the only reason I wouldn't just stuff it right into my bag was because I need the ID to get my lunch.

See our school isn't normal. We don't have cash registers at the end and you pay for what you buy. Your parents get an order form every trimester and they sign you up and the only way to get food is if you flip your ID on the silver box that has a gate on it. It lets you in. If your ID isn't working or you're not supposed to get lunch it makes this huge noise. It sort of sounds like a police car or an ambulance or something. I just know that it happened to me a few times and when it happened everyone stared at me. I really didn't like it. Made me uncomfortable. But whenever it happens to someone else I always look and see who the poor person is. I sort of feel bad and sort of not. I laugh when it's someone else. Is it bad of me?

I see the teacher writing on the board and I pull out my orange notebook. I have three. Pink is for Biology and English. Blue is for French and Sports Medicine. And Orange is for Math and World History. I never really liked this subject. Just always liked to stare out the window.

The teacher asks a question and finally I raise my hand because I know the answer. But all she does is glare at me. I look down and see my shirt rise over my stomach and I blush slightly. That wasn't really fair. I never participate and when I finally know something she always give me a hard time.

Oh, we have a dress code. A huge one. No shorts or skirts above the knee, boys and girls. No shirts that show your shoulders or that don't cover your shoulder. Nothing tight skinned. No huge heels. No spikes. No showing midriff. I think that one is the worst. Were can I find a shirt that is in style but doesn't show my midriff? I don't think the teachers in our school have common sense.

I slink back into my chair and look back out the window. I see the middle school kids that still have PE and have to run around the school and I remember my time in seventh grade and how life seemed so complicated then, how everything was the end of the world. I look out and see a girl with a red face and brown puffy hair sticking out of her ponytail. She stops and starts walking and puts her hands on top of her head, trying to make the crap go away. She looks into the window and I smile a little at her and give her a reassuring smile, she blushes and looks away.

I look back on the board and see that the teacher, Ms. Levitt, has written more on the board. I start writing down everything and when she starts yelling at the fat kid in the front with a bigger chest size than me, I can't help my little laugh when she starts turning red as a tomato. Cordelia looks at me in the seat next to mine and gives me an amused smile. And I know that she also thinks that this funny. She and I have one thing in common. That is Sex and the City and ER. We love those shows. Obsessed, really. It's all we talk about with each other; I would never dare anything else. I lay back in blue chair that squeaks. The white table in front of me shifts as Cordelia laid her head down.

At least I'm not the only who thinks Ms. Levitt is boring. I look out the class window on the door and see Angel walk slowly back and forth between the classroom doors. I see him look inside the window of my Math class and move his head to the side. I smile a little and get up to go to the bathroom.

I sign out, writing my name: Buffy Summers, Time, I look up at the clock, Nine twenty. Oh and did I mention that we have Sign out sheets, we have to sign out every time we go somewhere, because just in case something happens they know we are not in the class. I think they do it just so they can be a bigger pain in the ass then they already are.

I come outside and see Angel leaning against the wall, in his traditional dark blue jeans and white T-Shirt, and his black converses. When I closed the door and he looked up, he smiled his special smirk smile just for me and pulled me towards him. I giggle and wrap my arms around his waist. He nuzzles his noise on my shoulder and I kept help but moan a little. I see a teacher and I smile a bit. Angel looks at me and tilts his head. He grabs hold of my hand and we rush down the 100s hallway towards the bathroom in the center of the hall. He pushes me gently against the wall and I once again I wrap my hands around him.

I look up on the clock that is on the wall and pouted, I've been gone for five minutes already. Angel probably out for more. This time I tilt my head to the side and he gives me that grim smile 'who cares, lets just skip' I shake my head at him and move to the side still holding his hand. I move across the room and he holds my hand in his and slowly let go. I walk down the hallway and I feel him looking at me through the whole process. I walk into my math room 126 and close the door slowly. I write in the sign in sheet that I arrived safely to the classroom at nine twenty six. It probably looks like I took a crap or something. Oh well, I wasn't, I really wasn't.